


Stolen Time

by darter_blue



Series: Sergeant Barnes and Colonel Rogers: A Love Story [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Angst, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky/Bucky/Steve - Freeform, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:40:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27297289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue
Summary: Bucky has been searching for Steve through endless timelines, running into endless versions of other Steve's and other Bucky’s, but this one is different; not only is Bucky in an alternate timeline, he's about 70 years in the past. Its the war, and this is a Bucky who hasn't been ruined by Hydra, it's Steve as a newly made Captain America.So innocent and young, the worst is all ahead of them. But Bucky has the opportunity to save them. To give them that which was so cruelly stolen from he and his Steve.Time.Time to be together, to love each other, to save each other. Bucky just needs to prove to them what they are to each other. How perfectly they fit together. And the best way to prove it is to show them.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Sergeant Barnes and Colonel Rogers: A Love Story [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996660
Comments: 21
Kudos: 265





	Stolen Time

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt fill that turned into something special. It works as a companion piece to [Sergeant Barnes and Colonel Rogers: a love story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25667329)
> 
> There will be an epilogue and more companion peices later in the new year.

Bucky’s been to so many different fucking timelimes now he’s lost count.

He hasn’t really lost count. But it hurts his mind, hurts his heart, to think about that number and know that he still hasn’t found Steve. His Steve. Not the imposter. The Steve who only left Bucky to be back in the span of a breath. The Steve who would have  _ never  _ broken his promises. 

But this timeline. This timeline is wrong for all sorts of reasons, the first and worst of which is that it’s not the right century - or at least he hopes it's not. Or else something went really fucking wrong here.

No, Bucky’s wound up back in the middle of World War fucking Two. 

He’s just popped right into the Officer's quarters of one Steven Grant Rogers circa France, 1945. The shield is here, the uniform is here. Steve is  _ not _ here, but Bucky is. Or Bucky’s old self? Or his alternate self? Fuck he hates this.

‘Fuck, you’re just a baby,’ he says to himself. His younger self. His alternate self.

‘What?’ his alternate self says back. Wild eyed, gun trained on Bucky’s face. Smart. Bucky’s got enough armor on his chest, that a heart shot wouldn’t be fatal.

‘Please don’t shoot me, kid.’ Bucky uses his best calm voice. His goat herding voice, no Winter Soldier here. No aggression. As soft as he can make it. To be accurate, it’s his Steve wrangling voice. Sometimes the only way to get him breathing right was to talk to him so calm, so steady, he could follow Bucky’s voice and try to match his breaths.

It doesn’t seem to be working on himself though.

Other Bucky seems spooked by the tone more than anything. ‘What the  _ fuck.’ _ He’s breathing heavy, but his hand is steady as a rock. ‘Who…? How...?’

‘Good questions,’ Bucky says, ‘These are good questions, kid. But I know you just saw me materialise out of thin air.’ Bucky holds his hands up to his other self, keeps his shoulders down, keeps his body as loose as possible. ‘And I don’t think any of the answers I have for you are gonna make you feel better.’

‘Are you… are you meant to be…’ Other Bucky steels himself and asks the question that Bucky can tell is driving him nuts, ‘Why do you look like me?’

‘I am you, I’m… a version of you.’ Bucky keeps his hands up but takes a step forwards. He feels like they’re getting somewhere.

Other Bucky raises an eyebrow, ‘Like from the future?’

Well, how does he explain alternate timeline’s to the 1940’s version of himself. ‘Sort of?’

Other Bucky is looking him up and down. His eyes catch on the arm where Bucky’s quantum suit has been modified to keep the vibranium free from obstruction. ‘What happened to you?’

God. Bucky doesn’t want to answer that. ‘A lot,’ he says, in favour of a real answer, ‘Too much.’

‘You’re Hydra.’ Other Bucky says it with such conviction, it has Bucky wincing. He can’t tell him why. If this Bucky gets wind of any Hydra influence on him at all, he’ll shoot. He knows himself. 

Bucky shakes his head. And he forces himself to believe what he’s saying. Because it  _ is  _ true. ‘I got captured. They made some’ - he looks down at his arm - ‘modifications.’

Other Bucky watches him, his eyes getting impossibly wider. But the gun never wavers.

‘Listen, listen to me,’ Bucky says, keeping still, wondering how long he has until Steve gets here. He doesn’t remember any of this - where they are, what they’re doing or why Bucky’s in Steve’s room, so he has no idea what kind of time frame he's on. But he knows as soon as Steve walks in this room, other Bucky will shoot this version of himself. He would never risk Hydra getting Steve. ‘I’m trying to help… I need to help  _ my  _ Steve.’

Other Bucky narrows his eyes., tilts his chin back. It’s an invitation to explain. Bucky takes it.

‘I’m from a version of the future - not yours I don’t think - and the Steve from my future is missing,’ Bucky swallows the heavy lump in his throat, ‘He’s… lost. In a different reality than the one we’re from.’ He’s keeping his voice calm, his body loose, but his other self isn’t fooled. He can hear it, whatever it is in Bucky’s voice that fails when he talks about this. When he thinks about where Steve might be. And why he can’t find him. 

Whatever it is is enough for other him to finally lower the gun. ‘Prove it.’

‘I don’t know how much is the same here,’ he says, keeping his hands up, ‘But I know this will always be true - you love him.’

‘What?’ other Bucky snaps his head back like he’s been slapped.

‘You’re in love with him, Steve. You have been. Forever.’

‘I don’t… I don’t know what you mean.’

‘It’s okay. He doesn’t know. Not yet.’

‘Not yet?’

‘You’ll tell him.’

Other Bucky’s breathing has picked up again. Even more than before. As if this information is somehow freakier than a future version of himself just dropping out of nowhere into the middle of the room. ‘No.’

‘Yes. In the future… you can get married you know. To a guy.’

‘We get married?’ The words rush out of his mouth. His breath hitches as they leave him, mouth hanging open.

‘No, I mean, not yet,’ Bucky’s own breath is coming faster, ‘It all went wrong… it all… it fell…’ Bucky is trying. He’s trying, but he can’t say it. He can’t finish.

‘Oh god,’ His other self says, putting his gun in his holster, ‘Are you - what  _ happened  _ to you?’

‘I’m trying to find him, but he’s not here, he’s not anywhere.’ Fucking,  _ why  _ is Bucky telling him this? Why is he breaking down in front of this innocent, baby faced version of himself. And all the promise that lies there, the promise that Bucky knows will never be realised. 

‘How did you get like this?’ Other Bucky asks, coming closer. His hands are free to grab the gun if he needs it - not that he would ever be faster than the Winter Soldier like this. He’s enhanced, but he’s not trained yet. They haven’t tortured the humanity out of him. Azzano was just the beginning. 

‘I can’t tell you,’ he says to his other self. He’s not supposed to say anything. But this is not his timeline anyway. How much worse could things get than they already are? Maybe he could save things for this Bucky. For this Steve, wherever he is. ‘But don’t let your guard down on that train when you go after Zola.’ 

Other Bucky is close enough to touch him now. He reaches out for the arm like it's calling to him. Looking between Bucky and the arm with those wild, wide eyes.

‘You need to tell Steve.’ Is all that Bucky can say.

‘That I love him?’

‘Yes, and that’ - he reaches out to touch his other self back, gently, just fingers against other Bucky’s chin to focus his attention on Bucky’s face - ‘That you’re different now. That what he did, Zola, it changed you.’

Other Bucky doesn’t pull away but he shakes his head emphatically. Spooked. Sure now, obvious in his proximity, in his familiarity, that Bucky  _ is  _ him. Some version of him.

‘You have to,’ Bucky whispers, his other self is so close, and Bucky strokes his fingers up to his cheek, slides his thumb over the unmarked skin, so fresh, so new, round and pink in a way that his own cheeks, the  _ soldier’s  _ cheeks haven’t been since the train, ‘He needs to know that you could survive a fall. You could survive just about anything.’

‘I can’t tell him,’

‘Kid, you can’t let him think you’re dead. Ever. He’ll kill himself if he thinks you’re dead.’

Other Bucky can see that it’s true. He lets his head fall into Bucky’s hands. Lets him take the weight of it. ‘Okay,’ he says, voice muffled, ‘I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him everything.’

‘Hey it won’t be bad,’ Bucky lifts his other self’s face to tell him Steve would never leave them, pulls him up by the hair, too rough probably, and gets a short gasp in response. He really must have liked it just as much then as he does now, and it’s fascinating. He holds onto other Bucky’s hair and keeps his face still. Just takes time to look at himself like this. ’Shit,’ he says softly, ‘I forgot how pretty I was.’

‘You’re still pretty,’ his other self says, just as softly, reaching up his own hand to touch his fingertips to Bucky’s sharper cheekbones, ‘You look sad, but you’re still pretty.’

Bucky’s breath catches at the way his other self is looking at him. He doesn’t remember being this innocent. This trusting.

‘Does he like it like this?’ other Bucky asks, stroking that hand across Bucky’s cheek and into his hair, running fingers through the loose strands around Bucky’s face, ’Your hair?’.

Bucky nods. ‘He loves it.’

‘You like it too huh?’ And other Bucky yanks at the hair in his hands, pulls at it the same way Bucky had pulled at his. ‘Does he do this?’

Bucky nods again, the corners of his mouth are turning up as he pulls back in return, rougher this time, exposing the long line of his other self’s throat. ‘He does a lot of things.’

And god, but other Bucky’s eyes light up at that. His lips curl up in a smile as he steps up into Bucky’s space, ‘What else does he do?’

‘He does this sometimes,’ Bucky says and moves his vibranium hand down to other Bucky’s nipple, to pinch at it through the green undershirt of his uniform, ‘And he likes to bite.’ The snap of Bucky’s teeth at his other self’s jaw has him arching his back, enough that he’s forcing his nipple back up into Bucky’s fingers, and he twists again, getting even more of a response. ‘Yeah, we like it when he does that.’

‘Oh god,’ other Bucky whispers, ‘What else?’ he asks, licking his lips, ‘What else does he do?’

‘He loves to pick us up,’ Bucky drops his hands to grab his other self by the thighs and lift him up, wrapping other Bucky’s legs around his waist, ‘Prove he’s bigger than us now.’

‘You seem pretty big.’

‘Oh, I let him think he’s the biggest, you know he always hated being small.’

‘I liked him small,’ other Bucky says with a pout and Bucky laughs.

‘Yeah, me too. He knows, don’t worry.’

‘What do I know?’

Both Bucky’s snap their heads up to the voice at the door. To Steve. And he looks  _ pissed _ .

‘What the fuck is going on,’ Steve says, eye’s fixed to where the Bucky’s stand, and it must be one hell of a scene, their bodies practically fused together, other Bucky held up, straddling Bucky’s waist. 

‘Steve it’s not,’ other Bucky says, pulling back from Bucky, jumping down from his arms and taking a step towards Steve, who takes a step back. Bucky feels the tick in his own jaw as he watches the colour drain from other Bucky’s face. ‘This is me, he’s me.’

Steve turns to Bucky then, to the Winter Soldier, in his white uniform, with his metal arm, his long hair, and his sharpened cheekbones, and Steve takes a step towards other Bucky, arm out as if to protect him.

‘I’m a different version of your Bucky,’ Bucky says, back to his calm voice, his Steve wrangling voice, and he can see the second Steve recognises it, in the way his eyes widen, his eyebrows raise impossibly high. And the other Bucky is stepping back closer, making his way between Steve and the Winter Soldier.

‘He’s me, Stevie, from the future.’ 

Steve blinks, ‘The future?’

‘We survive the war, Steve’ other Bucky says, voice just as soft, just as calm, ‘We end up in the future, together.’

‘Together?’ Steve parrots.

‘It’s a possible future,’ Bucky, the Soldier, chimes in, probably stupidly, but he feels compelled to be truthful, ‘I don’t know what will happen for you two.’

‘How do you mean, together?’ Steve asks, glossing over Bucky’s addendum. 

‘Men can get married, Stevie,’ other Bucky says, reaching out for Steve, laying a gentle hand on the sleeve of Steve’s crisp, officer’s uniform, ‘In the future they can marry each other.’

Steve is looking between them, his eyes flitting back and forth over the details of their appearance. Other Bucky, this Steve’s Bucky’s very obvious erection tenting his pants. ‘What were the two of you doing?’

Other Bucky opens his mouth to answer but no words come out.

‘I was showing him something.’ At the look Steve gives him, Bucky hurries to add, ‘What you like to do to me, I was showing him what you like to do to me, in the future. In my future.’

‘We do that?’ Steve asks, voice breaking, ‘Me and Bucky?’

Bucky and other Bucky both nod. 

‘Show me,’ Steve says, deep and commanding in his best Captain America voice. Like Bucky can’t see him shaking where he stands. 

Bucky moves toward his other self and Steve shakes his head.

‘On me.’

‘Okay,’ Bucky says, ‘Okay Steve, I can show you, let me show you both.’ And he pulls his other self forward so that they both stand in front of Steve. ‘I know exactly what you like, and I know exactly what I like, okay, why don’t I show you both.’

Steve nods his head. His mouth is open, his breathing is getting heavier, and his pupils are dilated. Other Bucky is looking at them both and biting at his lower lip, but the tent in his pants is bigger than ever. And Bucky wants them to have this. All this time. So much more time than he and Steve ever got to have.

‘Get on your knees, Buck,’ he says to his other self. And Steve’s eyes just about fall out of his head as the other Bucky does as asked, drops right to his knees in front of Steve. Oh he always wanted to. He would have done it in a heartbeat. ‘Jacket off, Steve.’

Steve doesn’t waste time, he rips his jacket off and throws it onto the bed in the corner of the room. 

‘Buck, open his pants for him,’ Bucky says, keeping his voice steady. Using his calm voice again, ‘And lets take this off you too, huh?’ he reaches down to Bucky and lifts the hem of his henley, ‘You don’t need this anymore.’ other Bucky just lifts his arms as the henley slides over his head, gets his hands back to Steve’s fly as soon as they’re free. Steve’s mouth hangs open and his chest is expanding, those gorgeous pecs straining at the white tank under his shirt. The shirt that he has balled up and thrown behind him. 

Other Bucky finally gets all the buttons of Steve’s fly open, is pulling at the material of Steve’s pants, but Bucky stops him with a gentle hand.

‘I’ll get these,’ he says, and reaches his own hand over the fly of Steve’s underwear, cups at the growing hard on, closing eyes at the familiar weight of it, then he steps around behind Steve to slide the pants down and off his legs.

‘You too,’ Steve says as Bucky steps back around behind his other self, and Bucky nods, because he can never say no to Steve. He does check to make sure they’ve locked the door and then removes his uniform slowly, puts his weapons on the bed in a row while the others watch, Bucky from the floor and Steve above him. 

He comes back to them in just his underwear, he ignores their unasked questions, the way their eyes linger on his scars, and stands behind his other self, ‘Keep your hands on the back of his thighs, Bucky,’ he says to his other self, knowing how good those thighs feel, ‘tap them if you need a break, okay?’ and other Bucky nods as Steve shivers at the touch of his Bucky’s hands on his bare skin. 

Bucky gets his hands in other Bucky’s hair and pulls his head back. ‘You want him like this, Stevie?’

‘Oh sweet Jesus,’ Steve says, breathing out the words like a prayer. 

‘He’ll be so good for you, Steve,’ Bucky says, low and gentle, ‘He’ll do whatever you ask him for, he wants to, don’t you, Bucky?’

‘I do,’ his other self says, looking up at Steve like he’s the sun, ‘Whatever you want, Steve.’

‘Oh, Buck,’ Steve says, reaching a hand down to cup Bucky’s chin, ‘I just want you.’

‘He’s ready,’ Bucky says, ‘Look at that sweet mouth, Steve, so ready for you,’ and his other self is a quick study, he really is ready, opening his mouth wide as Bucky keeps his hands in hair, keeps his head pulled back, ‘Don’t you want to fill him up?’

Steve looks up at Bucky with uncertainty, and Bucky nods his attention back down to other Bucky.

‘Feed him that pretty cock of yours, Steve.’ 

‘I want it,’ other Bucky says, knowing Steve won’t do it unless he’s sure, ‘Please give it to me Steve.’

And Steve closes his eyes. Those gorgeous long lashes fanning out over his cheeks. He reaches into his underwear to pull out his now rock hard dick, rests the tip of it on his bucky’s chin. 

And this Steve’s Bucky nods again, opens his mouth wider so that Steve can feed it to him, slide that huge cock into other Bucky’s mouth until his eyes are watering, his throat bulging. Steve throws his head back as he traces a finger over Bucky’s throat where he can feel himself under the skin. 

‘Tell him how good he is, Steve,’

‘He’s so good, so fucking perfect, Buck.’

Bucky eases the pressure of his hands where they pull at other Bucky’s hair, running them through gently, petting him.

‘Tell him how pretty he is.’

‘You’re beautiful, Buck,’ Steve says, running one of his own hands into his Bucky’s hair to grip it tight, ‘Always, always, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’

And both Bucky’s have tears in their eyes now, as Steve keeps talking, pretty words, praise and more praise as he pulls his dick out and slides it back down Bucky’s throat.

‘He can take it Steve, don’t be gentle,’ Bucky says, biting back the moan as Steve grips his Bucky’s hair tighter, pushes his dick in further, ‘Don’t you want to fuck that pretty mouth of his?’

‘Fuck,’ Steve gasps, ‘Fuck, yes.’ sliding himself out and in, faster, harder now as Bucky encourages him.

‘Does he feel good, Steve? Does his pretty mouth feel good?’

‘Oh god, feel so good, Buck, so fucking gorgeous, so good, you feel so good.’ Steve is just letting the words flow out of him, gripping Bucky’s hair, holding his head back while he fucks down into his mouth and Bucky knows how good it feels, how the serum means he doesn’t have to breathe as much as he used to, means he can keep choking on Steve’s cock, feeling him all the way down into his throat, being so full, all his senses full of Steve, the way he smells, the way he tastes, the weight of him on Bucky’s tongue.

Bucky knows it so well he’s rocking his hips into the other Bucky’s shoulders in time with Steve’s thrusts, getting harder and harder, feeling that warmth spread through him.

Steve’s litany of, ‘so good’ and ‘so beautiful’ and ‘so perfect, Bucky,’ have him floating, he’s forgotten to keep control but it doesn't matter anymore as Steve’s thrusts get more and more erratic, as he finally pulls out and hot, white ropes of come hit other Bucky across the cheek, down his throat, over his chest, Bucky can’t hold back his own orgasm, it rips through him as he holds other Bucky's hair like a lifeline, and other Bucky reaches his own hands up to Steve’s elbows to pull him down, he climbs over steve’s knees and onto his lap to latch onto his mouth, to fit his lips to Steve’s the way they had always meant to be fit, and kisses him through his own orgasm, shaking and spasming and arching his back as he rocks in Steve’s lap, Steve chasing his mouth, desperate for more.

Bucky is torn between wanting to stay, knowing what more will come next, and needing to get away. He watches this world's Steve and Bucky as they crash into each other and he cries for the time that he and his Steve missed out on, cries for what he might never find.

But he needs to keep looking.

He steps into his uniform, straps his weapons, checks them, and activates the pym particles to shrink himself before he has to make any awkward goodbyes.

He’ll investigate this world more before he abandons it for the next one, get somewhere he can clean himself up and catch his breath. He doesn’t think his Steve is here, but he doesn't know for sure

Still. He has to try. 

He’ll just keep trying. Until he finds him. 

He’ll find him.

They’ll always find each other.

Always.

  
  
  
  



End file.
